The Pillow Who Loved Me

Every night her bed spoke to her, but her pillow had no use
for language. It was too busy being soft and comfortable.
Its natural state, one of rest. She was clueless to its
aversions and desires, but suspected it feared dust mites,
daylight, and the sound of the alarm clock. The bed loved to
share all its secrets of sleepy heads, and banging heads, and
unmentionable head. The pillow refused to participate in such
tomfoolery. Its downtime was spent inside a silk cul-de-sac
so quiet even darkness was suspicious.

If the pillow had any hobbies, they were wordless, soundless. Oh how she hoped darkness was on to something, and that the pillow secretly carried on a 007 life of adventure; Something sinful and dangerous, wild and ridiculous. A secret life of motion, martinis, fast cars, exotic locations. A place where pillow was always in its prime and at its fluffiest. A place where, when asked its name, you could hear it say, in true debonair fashion, Bond, Pillow Bond.

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69 thoughts on “The Pillow Who Loved Me”

You truly are the Exotic Enchantress of Blog. First, the perfect selection of the very best Bond song. Then, your wonderful words expressing desire for excitement and adventure. What a creative and fun read. LOVED THIS.

Thanks i needed that.
So quite even the darkness was suspicious.
It’s lines like this, that make your genius, even greater.
Bond Pillow Bond. Sheer gut busting.
It’s been years sence i laughed til I cried.
By the way, I sleep with no fewer than three. I think I’ll name them.
That may be why I sleep alone.
Thanks for sharing that. It’s gonna be a good day. Bless you Tosha

I always wax, creep. Bang. Boom. Bam. Thank you, Ma’am. By the way, if people read our comments, you know they either think we’ve been married for twenty years or are mental, right? The truth is so much more interesting. Imagine if they knew we were aliens sent here to take over the world one blog post at a time. See ya back on the space ship, Vioek

God, I read that as huffing, which I do as well. Thanks, pal. Giving you the salute of the Ughtz. You can have my share of the jokgd tonight which I hear tastes a lot like Yorkshire pudding. Yum. Yum or as we say. Jeu Jeu. xx

Tosha, too bad our pillows can’t collect info from our dreams and then be able to access the data the next day. I rarely recall my dreams and would love to know what that pillow knows…but it ain’t talkin’!